


Unexpected Consequences

by MsDaHedgehog



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Dr Covington, F/M, Season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-05-12 15:46:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5671435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsDaHedgehog/pseuds/MsDaHedgehog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beginning set in 'Dr Covington', going AU afterwards. Liz rethinks Dr Friedmans recommendation after Ressler berates her for becoming like Reddington. Ressler seeks her out to apologise; the night leading to some unexpected consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> New story! Beware - updates will be few and far between.

They were standing in one of the bland white corridors of the makeshift, underground hospital. Agents Keen and Ressler were currently in the middle of a staring match after their argument, or rather, Resslers heated rant at her. Her partner, her _friend_ , had just accused her of becoming more and more like Reddington over the past year. The trouble for Liz was that, now the words had been spoken out loud to her, she realised that they were, in fact, true. Was she hurt by the accusations Ressler had just made? Yes, but that didn't matter. She wasn't angry, but rather humiliated, that the criminal they were working with ways of life were rubbing off on her. As she stood there staring at her partner, she could see the regret building up in him but she wasn't ready nor in the mood to continue talking. Instead, she backed up slightly, turned on her heel and started to walk away in the direction of the improvised family waiting room. It was only then that Ressler seemed to finally find his voice.

 

“Keen... Liz, look, I -”

 

She cut him off by holding up a hand as she continued to walk away, not daring to turn around as tears threatened to fall. She couldn't let Ressler see that. She turned the corner, carried on walking but stopped outside the waiting room. The parents of the young boy Dr. Covington was currently operating on were sitting on the long couch, clutching at each other with their heads dipped low in silent prayer. Liz knew that, the surgery Covington was performing, was the only way to save the boy and, in her mind, allowing him to continue had been the right decision but now... she had a lingering feeling of doubt. Like Ressler had said, she was making trade-offs, thinking more like a criminal than an Agent and that's not the person she wanted to be. As she stood there looking through the glass at the two distraught parents they'd interrogated little over an hour ago, she couldn't help but wonder what it felt like to go through what they were going through. Would she even be able to cope knowing that her child could die at any moment from something she couldn't control? It was at this moment she was truly glad that she'd pulled out of the adoption when she had.

 

They still had a couple of hours until Covington came out of surgery, so she thought it was best to head back outside to the car. She used her set of keys to open the passenger side and settled herself in to the seat; reclining it back slightly and placing her booted feet up on the dash. She lent her head back and closed her eyes, taking in the peaceful silence around her and using it as an opportunity to think. She thought back to the conversation she'd had with Cooper that morning in his office, and the recommendation he'd gotten from Dr. Friedman. Was it really possible to take a couple of months off? Could she really do it? The more she thought about it, the more she realised that a full two months was a bit too long and maybe six weeks would be better. Yes, that's what she would do. She had to talk to Reddington, let him know but she would do that back at the office later, after she informs Cooper.

 

Liz managed to relax her mind and body enough to drift off to sleep in her semi-comfortable position. She had no idea how much time had passed before she was jerked awake by her phone buzzing in her back pocket. By the time she had extracted the damn thing, it had stopped ringing, though Resslers name stayed on the screen for a further few seconds. She didn't return the call, knowing that he would contact her again if he needed to. Liz straightened up in her seat, leaning far enough forward to check her reflection in the rear-view mirror; her face was a little puffy from sleep but nothing too major and her make-up hadn't smudged. Her phone buzzed once again in her hand to signal a new message from her partner.

 

_***Covington's done with the surgery, he's bringing the boy out now and going to talk to the parents. I've already called for back-up and they'll be here in ten. I don't know where you are or what the hell you're doing but you need to get back in here.*** _

 

She sighed to herself before climbing out the car and locking it behind her. She made her way back inside the shop front and down the stairs to the basement hospital. She found Ressler standing outside the waiting room whilst the parents of the young boy thanked Covington for saving their childs life. Liz stood away from her partner, not wanting to give him an opportunity to start a conversation. After a few minutes, Covington came out and bypassed Ressler, who started to protest, before coming to a stop right in front of Liz.

 

“Thank you, for allowing me to continue.” He held his hands out in front of him as she removed her cuffs.

 

“I didn't do it for you, I did it for the boy,” she cuffed one hand and motioned for him to turn around, which he did and clipped the metal ring around the other hand to join them behind his back. She nodded towards the parents still sitting in the waiting room. “And for them. Is he gonna be okay?”

 

“Prognosis is looking good. He now has the ability to live a full and happy life, which I'm certain wouldn't be the case if he'd had to wait for treatment.” They both stood facing the direction of the room opposite them and as she stared forward, Ressler caught her eye.

 

He had witnessed the whole exchange between Keen and Covington, heard every word that was said and saw every move that was made. Standing there stiffly against the wall, there was now no doubt in his mind that his partner had made the right call and he was fast wishing that he could take back every thing he had said to her a few hours before. He knew that that couldn't happen but was hoping that he could get through to her how sorry he was on the journey back.

 

Distant voices of the swat sounded from somewhere in the building and all three of them turned towards the end of the corridor. Mere seconds later the voices grew louder and twenty odd men clad in black stormed in pointing their guns. Both agents instantly pulled their badges out and held them up to be checked. Liz spoke briefly to one of the men before handing Covington over to be taken outside. She slowly made her way over to Ressler, who straightened up and gave her a small half smile, only for it to be received with a sigh.

 

“I'm gonna escort Covington back to the Blacksite. You can handle over seeing things here on your own right?” She looked tired and he knew it was best not to argue with her. Instead, he just gave her a curt nod before motioning over one of the other agents. Liz gave him a small nod back before turning away from him and making her way outside to the waiting car holding Covington. As the car pulled away from the building she mentally prepared herself for the meeting she would be having with Cooper.

 

* * *

 

An hour later she was standing outside Cooper's office, building up the courage to actually knock on the door. She'd gotten back and set Covington up in interrogation with Samar watching over him as he wrote out the confession of his crimes. Deciding it was time, she took one last deep, steadying breath before knocking on the door. Cooper's sharp, clipped voice came through not even a second later.

 

“Come in.”

 

She walked in and pushed the door closed behind her.

 

“Agent Keen, good work today. I understand Agent Ressler is still at the scene?” There was something off in his voice.

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

“Agent Ressler has already alerted me of his decision to allow Covington to continue surgery.” What? Ressler had told Cooper is was his idea... why? She didn't correct him, not wanting him question Ressler for lying, so she just nodded. “I've told him I want a full report on my desk tomorrow, I expect the same from you.”

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

“Very well, what is it I can do for you?” His gaze tore through her and she almost stopped herself from revealing what was on her mind.

 

“Sir... I wanted to discuss with you Dr Friedman's recommendation of time off.”

 

Cooper gave her a puzzled look as he lent back in his chair and removed his glasses. She could tell that he wasn't entirely sure where she would be going with this conversation, having made it clear to him earlier that she wouldn't be taking the doctors advice. She shifted awkwardly from foot to foot before Cooper waved his hand.

 

"Have a seat, Agent Keen."

 

Liz moved to the chair in front of Coopers desk and lowered herself in to it. She had gone over and over in her head what she wanted to say but now she was in a position to do it, she just couldn't find the right words.

 

"I... I've had a chance to - think about everything. She's right, I haven't grieved for Tom or dealt with the fact that he lied to me our entire marriage. This whole thing with Reddington and Berlin and to be honest, the pure concept of the blacklist is so over-whelming and I was thrown in this task force off the back of no experience that I've realised that I need a break from it all." She looked up at her boss. He was regarding her with a strange expression, almost like sympathy but with praise, like he was proud of her for admitting how she felt. "I have a few things to sort out from when my father died and - from the end of my marriage that I haven't been able to do because of work. I think it would help me to move forward with a clear head if I did. I'm accepting the offer of leave, but proposing that it be shortened to six weeks, effective from today."

 

She finished her speech and heaved a sigh of relief, it was over, it was done and God did she feel better now. Liz had never been one to bow down and admit defeat but even though she had admitted she needed the break, she still felt in control of the situation. Cooper nodded slowly and gave her a brief smile.

 

"Elizabeth, from what you've said now, I'm inclined to agree. I'll arrange everything in terms of paperwork stating the leave. All I ask is that you remain to finish your reports from today and drop them in to me before you leave."

 

"Yes, Sir. Thank you." She stood up then left the room, hurrying to hers and Resslers office. First glance told her that he still had not returned from the scene but she tried not to care. She actually hoped that she wouldn't have to see him again before she left, it would be easier that way. Sighing to herself, she decided to call Reddington sooner rather than later to inform him of her plans, no doubt he would have something to say about it. The phone rang no more than once before Dembe's deep voice answered.

 

"Is he there, Dembe?" She heard the phone changing hands.

 

" _Lizzie! My dear, what do I owe the pleasure? I'm pleased to hear that Dr Covington is in your custody._ "

 

"Yeah, we got him. Listen, Reddington, I'm taking some time off, going to go to Nebraska for a while, sort out Sam's house and that. I want a complete break. No cases, no nothing, just me at my dad's house."

 

" _Has something happened, Lizzie? This is an awfully big decision to make all of a sudden. When I spoke to you this morning you mentioned no plans of taking some time off._ "

 

"I'm fine, it is something I've been thinking about for a while actually," she lied to him. She knew full well that he either already knew something was wrong or he would do pretty soon. She wouldn't be the one to tell him though. "I just want a little time for myself, is that too much to ask?"

 

" _Well, I won't argue with that. Pack a few bags tonight and I'll have Dembe pick you up in the morning and have you taken in my jet tomorrow, no strings, just to save you paying for commercial._ "

 

"Fine, I hadn't actually gotten round to booking tickets so that helps a lot, thanks. Listen; I know you only talk to me but you're still gonna give the team blacklisters right?"

 

" _Good. Well, I guess I could make an exception for a few weeks. I must dash, things to do, people to see. Good bye, Lizzie._ "

 

The call ended and Liz placed the phone in her purse. That went easier than expected, she was convinced Reddington would try and persuade her against the idea but the fact that he hadn't pushed the matter concerned her, but just not enough to call him back and demand to know everything he knows.

 

She spent the next hour and a half speed writing her reports, finishing them quicker than she had expected to. She spent a further twenty minutes collecting anything and everything she would need, deciding to clear her desk ready for her fresh start in six weeks. She stared at her mainly bare desk, noticing that it looked much the same as when it had been assigned to her. She remembered the day that she found out she would be sharing an office with the agent who hated her, hated the fact that Reddington chose her, resented her for being able to converse with the criminal whenever the hell she pleased, and after five years he was able to look the man in the face yet wasn't able to put him behind bars where he deserved to be. It had taken a lot of cases and a lot of convincing to prove that she was a worthy agent without a hidden agenda. For a year she had worked along side Ressler and they had grown to trust each other but after today, she wasn't sure she could do that anymore. She needed a partner that would tell her when she was slipping, not blurt it out in frustration in the middle of a case.

 

She heaved a heavy sigh as she walked out the office, closing the door behind her before taking a detour to Coopers office on the way to the elevator. She knocked before being told to come in. She froze in the doorway upon seeing the face of her partner sitting in the chair she had vacated not two hours ago.

 

"Sir, I have my reports for you." She walked forward, handed him the files and stepped back towards the door. "Is there anything else I need to do before leaving?"

 

He shook his head. "No, I think I've covered everything. Enjoy your break, Agent Keen."

 

She nodded to him, avoided Resslers eye, turned on her heel and left the room, closing the door behind her. She speed walked it to the elevator and luckily wasn't stopped by anyone and as far as she could tell, Ressler hadn't followed her out either. She waited patiently for the doors to open and as she stepped in, she heard someone call her name behind her. She turned to face Ressler and pressed the 'up' button as he jogged towards her. He opened his mouth to say something but the doors closed in his face, cutting her off from view. She could picture the look on his face, neck going red from frustration and she knew he would be cursing out loud. She suppressed the urge to smile as the elevator took her up to her car.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long wait I know, but it's a really long chapter so I hope that sort of makes up for it.

He was an idiot! Ressler watched as his partner walk away from him and felt his heart fall in to the pit of his stomach. He'd hurt her with his words, he'd known he had the moment they'd left his mouth. Why had he said it? Did his brain not have a filter? Was he trying to hurt her? No, not intentionally... he never wanted to intentionally hurt her. Ressler watched Liz turn the corner without looking back at him once and he sagged against the wall. He'd screwed up today, and in the worst way possible – he'd compared her to Raymond Reddington. He hadn't meant it (not completely anyway), but the look in her eyes told him his words had struck for deeper than he'd imagined. When she'd walked off and disappeared for those couple of hours, he'd feared she'd let the scene completely and gone off on her own, but he couldn't risk leaving the hospital to find her. She wasn't even able to look at him when she'd come back.

 

Ressler needed to pull himself together. He needed to finish the job at hand, get back to the Post Office and talk to his partner. He needed to apologise... maybe he'd offer to buy her dinner as a bridge builder. Ressler took a look at his surroundings; agents were moving between room left, right and centre, removing bagged and tagged items for evidence. His phone started buzzing in his jacket pocket and, pulling it out, he half hoped and expected to see ' _Keen_ ' plastered on the screen. He found himself disappointed when it wasn't.

 

“Ressler.”

 

“ _Ressler, I need a status update. Have you apprehended Convington?_ ” Coopers voice boomed in his ear, loud enough for him to have to move the cell away form his head by a few inches. Ressler sighed, knowing that he would have to explain why he hadn't checked in.

 

“Yes, Sir. Keen's escorting him back to base while I stay and oversee things here.”

 

“ _Is there a reason why you failed to check in? You and Keen left hours ago._ ” He sounded highly unimpressed, but there was nothing Ressler could do about that now.

 

“Sir, we had no choice but to allow Convington to continue -”

 

“ _You did what!_ ” If Ressler was a gambling man, he would bet that Cooper had just removed his glasses and was now rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration.

 

“When we arrived, he already had a nine year old boy open on the table, closing him up midway wasn't an option. We made a calculated decision to ensure the safety of a minor.”

 

Ressler heard Cooper sigh down the line. “ _Was that Keen's decision?_ ”

 

“No, Sir, it was mine.” His response was instantaneous. He didn't realise what he was saying until the words were out of his mouth. It was better this way though; he'd already given his partner a hard enough time, she didn't need their boss breathing down her neck as well.

 

“ _Yours?_ ” By the sound of his voice, it seemed Cooper didn't believe him.

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

“ _Very well. I expect a full report on my desk tomorrow morning and I want you in my office for a debriefing as soon as you're back. Do I make myself clear?_ ”

 

“Yes, Sir.” The line went dead and Ressler knew his boss was not at all happy with the outcome, but there was, again, nothing he could do about it. He watched as the army of agents continued to move various items of equipment from the scene.

 

Well over an hour later, Ressler decided it was time for him to leave, knowing there wasn't much more direction he could give. He passed on command to a secondary agent, to arrange for things to be wrapped up swiftly, before heading up and out the store front and to his car. It felt strange to be driving back to the Blacksite without his partner; since the start of their partnership, it was rare for them to travel apart, having always run down leads together. He hoped she'd talk to him, hoped she'd give him the chance to apologise.

 

He parked the SUV in it's specified spot and, when he got out, spotted Liz's personal car in it's own place. Ressler breathed a sigh of relief - she was still there! He'd texted Aram, and asked him to inform Cooper he was on his way back, when he'd left the scene and knew his boss was expecting him immediately. The conversation Ressler needed to have with Liz was sure to take far longer than the one with Cooper, so he decided to get the lesser of the two out of the way first. Ressler exited the elevator at the war room and glanced up at his and Liz;s shared office; both the door and blinds were closed, but he could see the light within was on. He jogged up the staircase to Coopers office and knocked quickly, not giving himself the chance to change his mind and dart back down to his own office. Cooper didn't keep Ressler waiting long before inviting him in.

 

“Come in.”

 

Ressler stepped in to the office and shut the door behind him. Cooper had his head buried in a file on his desk in front of him, his glasses steadily slipping down the bridge of his nose. Ressler cleared his throat after a few seconds of waiting.

 

“You wanted to see me for a debriefing?”

 

Cooper finally looked up from the file. “Yes, I did. Sit.” Ressler did as requested. “Navabi's finished her interrogation and Covingtons been moved to a secure holding cell. He's been completely co-operative and given us a full list of clients, many of whom are powerful members of high ranking organisations. You should be proud of yourself, Agent Ressler. Keen to.”

 

The mention of his partners name sent a jab of regret through him. He nodded curtly to his boss. “We are. He's another dangerous person off the streets and behind bars, and I'm glad to be one half of the reason he's there.” He was sure that, if Liz hadn't have chosen to allow Convington to continue with the surgery, there was no way in hell he would have been as forthcoming with his client list.

 

Cooper took a moment before speaking; his voice was full of concern. “And the boy... was it worth going against and breaking all kinds of protocol?”

 

Yes. Ressler didn't voice his opinion straight away, but it came to him instantly. “I don't have the knowledge to say for sure, but Covington believes so, and my gut tells me he's right.” Ressler sighed before continuing. “He told Keen when she was cuffing him that the boy didn't stand a chance if he'd had to wait for the legitimate process. Last I knew he was recovering well and is expected to be able to live a perfectly normal life.”

 

Cooper removed his glasses and placed them on the desk before him and pointed to a frame photo on the edge. “I have a nephew his age, and my own sons not much older. I can't bare to think of myself in the same position as the parents.”

 

“Neither can I.”

 

The two sat in silence, both thinking about the increase of life expectancy Convington had given the boy, and the dramatic change in his quality of life. There was a sharp knock at the door, and Ressler saw Liz let herself in before Cooper could say a word.

 

“Sir, I have my reports for you.” She moved back to the open door, completely avoiding Resslers eye. “Is there anything else I need to do before I leave?”

 

She was leaving? Why was she leaving so early?

 

Cooper shook his head and smiled kindly at her. “No, I think I've covered everything. Enjoy your break, Agent Keen.”

 

Break, what break? Liz nodded and left the room, still refusing to look at him. The door closed with a soft 'snap' behind her, and Ressler was left staring at the dark wood for a few seconds before turning back to Cooper. “Keens leaving?”

 

“Yes, she's taking six weeks off.” Cooper seemed a little confused as to way Ressler didn't know his own partner was taking leave.

 

“Why?”

 

Cooper eyed him suspiciously. “It's confidential, but between you and me, I think she needs more.”

 

Ressler jumped up, heading straight to the door. “I need to speak to her. You'll have my reports tomorrow.” He yanked the door open and jogged through.

 

“Ressler -” Cooper started but Ressler didn't hear him finish. Liz was waiting at the elevator and the doors were just opening.

 

“Keen!”

 

She didn't turn around to see who called her but he knew she'd heard him; her whole body had stiffen slightly. She stepped in to the elevator and finally turned to face him. Even from a distance he could see she was tired, worn out from the days hard work... but something in her eyes told Ressler that wasn't all. He reached the elevator right as the doors closed in his face - and Liz made no move to stop them. Ressler kicked the steel casing in frustration and rubbed the back of his neck.

 

“God dammit, Keen,” he growled to no one. Aram looked on the verge of asking him what was wrong but Ressler shook his head to him as he walked passed to his office. He stopped in the doorway, staring intently at his partners desk. It was the neatest he'd ever seen it with everything in it's proper place. The fact was, there was barely anything left on it. He pulled open the draws and found them all partially full.

 

Ressler sat at his own desk, switching on his computer in preparation to write his report for Cooper, but he just couldn't concentrate on the task in front of him. The look on Liz's face as the elevator closed was at the forefront of his mind and he couldn't stand it. Ressler switched off the computer, without even opening up a single file, knowing there was no way he would be able to get any work done now. He had to see Liz and once he'd done that, maybe then he'd be able to actually get his report done.

 

Ressler grabbed his things and hurried out of the office. No one tried to engage him in conversation as he rushed past them, apart from Aram, who seemed to decide it was a bad idea because he closed his mouth and looked away. Ressler rode the elevator to the parking lot and jumped in his car, pausing long enough to reassure himself that he was doing the right thing by going over there. If she was taking some time off, he didn't know when he'd next get the chance. He was closing in on the motel she was staying at when he spotted a liquor store and, deciding it was better not to turn up empty handed, he turned in and picked up both a bottle of wine and a bottle of whiskey (figuring they would end up both needing something stronger).

 

Fifteen minutes later, Ressler puled up outside Liz's room and threw the car in to park. He sat there for a few minutes, building up the courage to actually leave the car and knock on the door. He was a damn FBI agent, this should be easy! Yet, why was he finding it so hard? He knew, though, why he was so worried; he had one chance to make things right before Liz disappeared to God knows where. All that time apart, anything could happen - and he, at the very least, wanted to say a decent goodbye.

 

Finally, Ressler grabbed both his purchases and left the car, locking it behind him. He didn't pause before knocking, knowing he's probably talk himself out of it at all. Less than a minute later the door creaked open, and Ressler found himself staring down the barrel of the gun pointing at him. It took all knowledge of his training not to flinch back as his partner pointed her gun at him. She lowered it after a few seconds, once she'd realised it was him and not someone trying to kill her. They stood there in complete silence, with Liz, once again, refusing to look at him. Ressler took this time to observe her; she had red-rimmed eyes and her face was slightly puffed out. His heart broke a little - she'd been crying. Ressler held up the two bottles he'd brought.

 

“Peace offering?” Silence continued to fill the space between them. “Can I come in?”

 

To his great relief, after a further few seconds, Liz pulled the door open wide enough for him to enter, before shoving it closed and locking it behind him. Ressler looked round the sparse contents of the room; a large, lone suitcase lay on the double bed, the contents sprayed all over the bedsheets rather than inside it. It was evident that he's interrupted her packing. He placed the bottles on the night stand and turned back to his partner.

 

“Cooper said you're taking a break?” He tried to keep it from sounding like an accusation as Liz started throwing various items in her suitcase.

 

“For a while.” She turned to walk to the small bathroom but Ressler grabbed a hold of her hand to stop her from leaving.

 

“Why?” He asked quietly, wanting to show her he wasn't there to cause more conflict between them.

 

“Does it matter?” She replied, equally as quietly, gently taking her hand from his and moving slightly away from him. Her reaction to his touch startled him a little; she'd never pulled away from him before.

 

“Of course it does,” he said, softly. He needed to know if he was the reason behind her sudden desire and decision to take time off.

 

Liz sighed, still refusing to look at him. “Dr Friedman made a recommendation to Cooper this morning and I agreed to it.”

 

Well, he wasn't expecting that. He always thought the woman had a problem with him, not Liz. Something didn't sound right, though. He was sure she was telling him the truth, but something in her voice told him she wasn't being completely honest with him. He stepped closer to her, and was glad when she didn't move away again.

 

“When did you decide?” He almost didn't want to know the answer.

 

“What?” She knew perfectly well what Ressler was asking.

 

“When did you decide? Because you didn't mention it when we left the Post Office after your meeting with Cooper.” He took off his jacket and threw it on the end of her bed. “Was it before or after we... we let Convington continue?”

 

“After,” she whispered after staying silent for a minute.

 

He knew it. “Liz...” He went to reach out his hand but she flinched away.

 

“Don't. I changed my mind, okay? It's allowed; women are notorious for doing it all the time.” She looked up in time to see his raised eyebrows before averting her eyes once more. “I need the break.”

 

He still didn't feel she was being completely honest. He spoke slowly to her, as if trying to convince her to admit she'd agreed to it because of him. “Because of what I said.”

 

“No.” Her tone was firm, but Ressler wasn't convinced.

 

“Don't lie to me, Liz. Please.”

 

“I'm not.”

 

Why was she trying to spare him? He already knew he played a part in her decision.

 

“Yes, are you.” He spoke softly and closed the gap between them. She had her head down, but Ressler could see her eyelashes glistening with tears. He wanted to reach out again, but was ashamed to say he was afraid of being rejected once more. Liz sat herself on the bed, holding her head in her hands. Ressler crouched down so he was level with her, bracing himself with one hand against the bed.

 

“You didn't say goodbye.” Yes, he felt hurt by the lack of a goodbye.

 

Her head shot up and she sniffed – she hadn't expected him to say that. “You were with Cooper.”

 

“Bullshit.” Any other time he would have laughed at the half arsed excuse, but not today. He knew her too well to believe it to be the truth.

 

Liz sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “I couldn't face it alright? I couldn't face you.”

 

And that was his undoing. He gripped on to the bed sheet at her words, his knuckles whitening. She couldn't even face him. He had never regretted anything as much as he did earlier that day before. He took one of her hands in his and wouldn't let her pull away. “I should never have said what I did, Liz.”

 

“But you did...” The warmth from his hand felt strangely comforting, and gave her the courage to come out and admit what was troubling her. “And you're not wrong.”

 

Regardless of whether he'd meant it when he said it earlier or not, hearing Liz say it out loud made him do a double take. She agreed with what he said? He wasn't even completely sure he truly agreed with what he said to her. Maybe coming here was a mistake; he'd only wanted to apologise, not get her to begin to second guess herself. He ran his thumb gently over her knuckles. “Liz..”

 

“No, Ressler.” She tore her hand out of his, standing so fast and moving away from the bed that she almost knocked him off balance. “What you said was true.”

 

“Then why wont you look at me, Liz?” He said, pushing the subject; he wanted to leave there tonight having worked things out with her. “I'm your partner.”

 

She spun round and finally let her eyes meet his; he could see now how full of hurt they actually were. Her voice was full of anger now, and she was one notch away from yelling at him. “Exactly! You're my partner...” She lowered her voice again. “And yet you waited until we were in the middle of a case to tell me I'm turning in to our damn criminal informant!”

 

She was right. Ressler lowered his head slightly in shame. It was his duty as her partner to keep her in line, to make sure she followed the rules and kept her toes on the right side of the law... yet it was clear to both of them now that he hadn't been doing that. Never before had he had a partner he felt so in sync, so comfortable with, and he wasn't about to let his lack of focus ruin that. “Liz, I-”

 

“No!” She cut him off, once again close to tears. “You should have said something before. I need someone to have my back, to pull me aside, to tell me when I'm so off point that I'm jeopardising everything!”

 

“I do!” Liz's words stung and they ripped through him. He did have her back, he always had her back.

 

“It doesn't seem like it.” The words were said so quietly now that Ressler was sure Liz didn't believe them herself. She cast her eyes down and placed her head in her hands as if she was ashamed of her outburst. He stepped closer to her, daring to place his hand on her arm and, when she didn't pull back, he wrapped an arm round her shoulder and tugged her to him, speaking in a slow voice to her. He wanted – _needed_ – her to understand.

 

“Today was the first time you've made a decision based on instincts similar to Reddingtons. What I said came out much harsher than I wanted, Liz.” He guided her over to sit on the edge of the bed again. “I was angry that you told Covington he could continue without discussing it with me first. You made the right call, though, Liz. The boy survived.”

 

He knew, ultimately, if the decision had been his, he'd of pulled the plug on the surgery, because that's what they're taught to do. The boy would have died, or would've had to wait years for an adequate donor if it hadn't of been for Liz. She saved that boys life with her decision. He should never have second guessed her. Liz raised her head from her hands and gave him a small nod, letting him know that she understood what he was saying. She gave him a tired smile and pressed her forehead to his shoulder.

 

“I'm sorry, Don.”

 

He looked down at her, confused. “For?”

 

“Taking it out on you? It's not your fault. You've made me realise...” She trailed off and he nudged her arm.

 

“What?”

 

“That I don't want to be this person anymore.” She sighed heavily. “I have lost so much in the past year... I don't know how much more I can take.”

 

“Hey,” he nudged her again to get her to look at him. “I'm your partner, and I always will be... unless, you know, one of us gets transferred or reassigned or -” He stopped himself from continuing – neither of them needed him to voice that they could die on the job. Ressler cleared his throat. “You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, Keen.”

 

“Yeah, right,” she scoffed.

 

“You're one of the strongest people I know.” The sincerity of his statement was clear to both of them, whether she believed it or not. They relapsed in to silence again, neither sure on what to say next. There was a tension in the room and Ressler was beyond grateful when Liz decided to break it and speak.

 

“I think I need a drink.”

 

He nodded in agreement and stood to retrieve the two discarded bottles from the night stand and held them up to her. “Wine, or -”

 

“Whiskey.” She cut him off before he could finish and he smiled to himself – he was right about needing something stronger, and he was thankful that she was the one to suggest it first.

 

“You got glasses?”

 

“I should have plastics ones,” she said as she moved a few things around in an attempt to hunt them down, but only to come up empty. “I may have already thrown them out.”

 

She looked apologetically at him as she threw a paper bag back to the floor. Ressler laughed quietly to himself and shook his head. “It's fine, Liz. Bottle it is.”

 

He unscrewed the cap to the whiskey and handed the bottle to her. She accepted it with a gracious nod and took a large swig, screwing up her face as the liquid burned her throat when she swallowed. Liz handed the bottle back to him and his stared at it momentarily before shrugging his shoulders and swallowing his own mouthful. It felt strange to him being in this close a proximity to Liz outside of work; although she'd seeked him out after everything went south with Tom, they still hadn't taken to be overly friendly outside of the Post Office.

 

They passed the bottle between them until nearly half the liquid had gone, and by that point the both of them were feeling the effects of the alcohol in their systems. They sat side by side on the floor now, leaning against the bed. Liz kept absent-mindedly tossing things across the room in to the trash while Ressler kept a mental score: it was currently three shots in and seventeen shots missed. Liz was just about to take another shot when there was a loud knock at the door. Ressler shot in to a standing position and was now on high alert, going for his gun when Liz snorted. He looked down at her, her slightly pink cheeked face smirking up at him.

 

“That'll be the pizza.” Her body was shaking too much with laughter to get up from the floor that Ressler rolled his eyes and headed to the door.

 

“I'll get it.” Ressler opened the door and took the pizza box. “Thanks,” he said as he handed over a couple of notes. “Keep the change.” The man nodded and Ressler closed the door and turned to find Liz staring at him, her smile wavering slightly.

 

“Moneys on the table.”

 

Ressler shook his head. “It's on me.” He crouched down and placed the over-large box next to Liz, grabbing his jacket off the bed as he stood. “I should probably get going. Let you eat in peace.”

 

He watched her face fall completely.

 

“Stay,” she said quickly and he smirked. She rolled her eyes but smiled. “You know, if you want to. I ordered more than I'll eat.”

 

“But cold pizza for breakfast is the best,” he joked with a smile, causing Liz to chuckle up to him. “You sure?”

 

“Yeah,” she said with a nod.

 

“Thanks.”

 

He tossed his jacket back on the bed and rejoined her on the floor. She had been right about ordering more than what she needed; the extra large deep pan was enough to feed three with a slice or two to spare. They ate in comfortable silence, continuing to each sip away at the whiskey until the entire bottle had gone. It hadn't exactly been a large bottle, but it was enough to give each of them a decent buzz. Ressler reached behind him and pulled the bottle of wine from the bed, popping the cork and offering it to his partner. She accepted graciously with a grin, while handing him another slice of pizza in return.

 

Ressler, eyes ever so slightly blurred, looked round the room, taking in the discarded clothes, open drawers and random bags littering the floor. The state of the room reflected Liz perfectly – disorganised. He chuckled to himself, catching the attention of his partner, who raised an eyebrow.

 

“'So funny?”

 

He slurred words brought a goofy grin to his face. “Nothin'. You want help packing?”

 

Liz looked round and, realising why he was making fun of her, snorted.

 

“It's just shoving clothes in to bags.” She hiccuped and shoved the pizza box away from her. “Reddingtons already taken Hudson and he'll have the rest of my things moved tomorrow.”

 

It was Resslers turn to snort. “I don't mean this in a bad way, Keen, but you have no idea how to pack.”

 

Liz looked at him, then looked round the room and shrugged. “I've been doing it for years, I think I'll be fine.”

 

“Just saying,” he said, smirking. “Folding helps.”

 

Liz swatted him lightly on the shoulder and he faked hurt as she laughed. “Who's supposed to be the woman in this relationship?”

 

Ressler pretended to think about it for a moment before innocently saying, “I always thought that was Reddington.”

 

The sound Liz made in response was one of the most unattractive Ressler had ever heard come from a woman. It seemed to be partway between a choke and a snort and who knows what else. She heaved in silent laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks and Ressler wasn't entirely sure why she found it _that_ funny. The sounds of her starting to cough and splutter from laughing too hard caught his attention and he thumped her hard on the back and she stopped, though she kept giggling to herself every few seconds.

 

“Finished?” He said, amused and chuckling.

 

“Yeah, sorry, that was just -”

 

“Funny?”

 

Liz nodded and crawled over to the dresser, pulling a towel from one of the drawers and wiped her face. Ressler was still chuckling lightly at her and she balled up the towel, shuffled back towards him on her knees and tossed it at his face before collapsing against his side.

 

“Hey!” he said, flinging the towel away from him. “What was that for?”

 

“Making fun of me.” She closed her eyes.

 

“Fair enough.” They sat in silence for a few minutes leaning against each other before Ressler spoke again. “What times your flight to...” he paused, realising now that he didn't know where she was going. “Where ever it is you're going?”

 

“My dads?” she answered and he nodded. She sighed and leaned closer in to his side. “Reddingtons lending me his jet, so Dembe's picking me up in the morning.”

 

Ressler nodded and smirked. “Lucky you. Maybe I'll try and keep on his good side, then he might offer to fly me across country for free.”

 

“Ha!” Liz said loudly, making Ressler jump. “No need to be jealous, we both know you wouldn't accept if he did; you hate him too much.”

 

Ressler laughed now. “You're probably right.” He nudged her shoulder lightly with his own, his tone a little more sombre now. “Post Office wont be the same without you.”

 

She laughed, albeit a little uneasy. “Yeah the chances of Reddington speaking to anyone but me are slim.”

 

“That's not what I meant, Liz,” he was serious now. “I'll miss you.”

 

“I'll miss you to.”

 

“You are coming back, right?” He was worried, and he wasn't ashamed to admit it.

 

“Can't imagine working with anyone else.”

 

Ressler let out the breath he didn't realise he was holding and laughed, relief flooding through him. “That's... really good to hear.”

 

Their hands, which had been resting on the floor a little way away from each other, had at some point moved together and interlocked. The warmth coming from each of them was comforting to both, though as soon as Liz realised what they were doing (which given the amount of alcohol in her system was far _far_ longer than usual), she pulled her hand away, causing Ressler to frown at the loss.

 

“I should really start packing, or Dembe will end up having to do it when he gets here.” She tried to stand but, in her haste, stumbled and fell back down, right in to her partners lap. Ressler caught her, a hand on each side of her waist to steady her.

 

“Whoa, Keen, had too much to drink?” He helped her to her feet and stood himself, his hands still on her waist.

 

“I think so.”

 

“I did say I'd help you, and I meant it.”

 

Liz cocked her head to the side and honestly considered his offer before smiling, shaking her head and gently removing herself from his grasp. “That's true, but that doesn't mean I want you going through my delicates.”

 

“As if I would.” He grabbed a shirt and folded it somewhat neatly as he added an afterthought. “But, I've already seen you in your bra.”

 

Liz dropped the pair of pants she was holding and stood staring at her partner in shock. When the hell did that happen? Ressler stood at the other side of the bed to her, laughing under his breath, a goofy grin playing on his lips at the revelation. Liz gaped at him for a few seconds before flushing bright red and collapsing on the bed, hands over her face.

 

“Donald Ressler!” she screeched, and it only made him laugh harder.

 

“You,” he said, coming round to her side of the bed and pulling her back up, turning her round and pointing to the pile of clothes she was laying on. “Should really keep the door closed _all the way_ when you're changing shirts in our office, Liz.”

 

Liz groaned loudly and his her face from him again, mumbling, “I – I honestly don't know how to feel about that.”

 

Ressler laughed at her again, moving back round to the other side of the bed. “Was a pretty nice bra from what I remember,” he joked. He spotted a black lace one in the bag and pulled it out, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. “Could have been this one.”

 

Liz looked up and lurched forward and climbed across the bed, coming to a stop on her knees in front of him and made to snatch the bra away. “Give that back.”

 

Ressler moved it just out of her reach and grabbed her outstretched hand, pulling her towards him. Time seemed to stand still as they stared in to each others eyes, neither moving until Ressler cocked his head and started to leaned down. He mere inches away from his pressing his lips against hers when his phone buzzed loudly from his pocket, ruining the moment. Instead, he pressed his forehead against hers and pulled out his phone, checking the message before groaning loudly.

 

“It's Aram, reminding me I have reports to do...”

 

“Killjoy,” she whispered, though he wasn't entirely sure she if she was serious.

 

They stood for a full minute, foreheads pressed together before he sighed and pulled away, scratching the back of his neck. “Guess I should go, hail a cab back to my place.”

 

She nodded. “That would... probably be a good idea.”

 

Ressler picked up his coat and slowly made his way to the door, Liz stumbling closely behind him. He wanted to turn back round and tell her he didn't want her to go or, more importantly, that _he_ didn't want to go right then. But he didn't. Instead, he turned back to Liz and engulfed her in a bone crushing hug. She reciprocated after a mere second, equalising the pressure.

 

“I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye,” she murmured weakly, wanting to savour the warmth of his body pressed against hers before that had to let go. “But I'm glad you wouldn't let me leave without coming by.”

 

“Glad I'm such a stubborn bastard?” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.

 

“Hell yeah.”

 

A few minutes later though, they both knew they had to let go. They released each other and he stepped back, opening the door and exiting. He looked back at her as he walked away and waved. “Have a safe flight, Liz.”

 

He turned and heard the door snap shut behind him, only then did he stop and really think over what had transpired in the last fifteen minutes. He had almost kissed his partner and, would he really have gone for it if his phone hadn't of buzzed and interrupted them? If he'd he'd just have gone ahead and kissed her, would he still be standing outside her motel room at nearly one in the morning as it started to rain? He wasn't gonna see her for six weeks, if he really wanted to do something, now was the time.

 

Turning on his heel, Ressler jogged back up to the door and raised his fist to knock, only... the door was no longer there. It was thrown wide open, with Liz standing on the threshold, her mouth open ready to speak. But she didn't. Instead she launched herself at him, jumping in to his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, fisting his hair and catching his lips with her own. He responded in kind by placing one hand on the back of her neck and the other on the small of her back to keep her to him. He licked at her bottom lip, asking for permission before forcing his tongue in to her mouth. She groaned against him as their tongues battled for dominance. He stepped back in to the room and kicked the door closed with his foot before pushing Liz up against the wall. His hands instantly found way first along the length of her face before he trailed them down her front, making quick work of the buttons of her shirt, pushing the material off her shoulders. He broke the kiss long enough to look down at her and grin.

 

“Hey!” he said, tugging at one of the cups of her bra and exposing her breast while expertly unhooking it with one hand at the back. “It was this one.”

 

Her response was to laugh, pull his face back towards her and arch her back as he rolled her nipple between his fingers. He held her back close to him as he moved her to the bed, laying her against the cool sheets and shoving anything in their way away. He'd lost his jacket on the way to the bed, and from her position, Liz was able to unbuckle the belt to his pants, unzip them, reach in his boxers and free his growing erection, running her hand over his length and achieving the effort of him moaning in to their renewed kiss. Liz stretched her arms and allowed him to remove her bra completely, which he then tossed to the floor.

 

“And it looks so much better on the floor.”

 

“Shut up before I -” she was cut off by her own moan escaping her lips as Ressler sucked hard enough on her nipple to leave a mark.

 

“Before you what?” he asked as his hand made it's way down beneath the waistband of her pants and in to her panties, running the pad of his thumb over her clit as he pushed a single finger, then two, inside her and rotated them.

 

“Never – mind,” she panted as she continued to run her hand up and down his dick, using the other to snake under his still intact shirt and dig her fingers in his hip. “Keep – doing – that.”

 

He let his own moan escape as she start started pumping her hand faster to match the rhythm he was using on her. “Keep doing that,” he grunted. “And I won't last much longer.”

 

Her pace ceased but she didn't let go. She did, however, use her foot to slide his pants and boxers down to his ankles, which he then kicked off with his shoes. She tugged at his shirt and whimpered as he continued his assault with his fingers, slowly beginning to bring her to her peak and she knew if he carried on going the way he was, she would soon be crying out.

 

Ressler felt her start to tighten around him and he increased the pace of his fingers, drawing them out and pushing back in faster than he had been before. Her moans became louder and her grip on his hip became tighter as the pressure started building in the pit of her stomach.

 

“Don,” she gasped.

 

Ressler sucked hard on her nipple again and she started to shiver and shake uncontrollably as she came around his fingers and rode out her orgasm screaming his name. His movements slowed as she came down from her high, though her grip on him intensified. One hand still running gently over his dick, she used the other to pull his face to hers and she kissed him deeply.

 

“I need you – now.”

 

That was all he needed to rip her pants down completely and separate her legs as he climbed on top of her. With fumbling fingers she undid the first few buttons of his shirt, just enough to allow him to yank it over his head. He paused at her entrance, looking her dead in the eye and kissing her passionately.

 

“You sure you want to do this?”

 

“Are you?”

 

Her response was filled with desperation and, without answering, he thrust deeply in to her. Their moans matched each other and she arched her back to make his access to her core easier. He could feel her walls tightening around him again and, thrusting faster still, he leaned down to kiss her once more before flipping them over and letting her ride him. With nails digging in to his chest, Ressler felt his own pleasure build and he knew he wouldn't last much longer. The pressure of her walls convulsing as she came a second time was his undoing and he found himself crying out her name.

 

“Liz!”

 

Liz collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily as she tried to allow her body to recover. Ressler, breathing equally as laboured, rolled himself over slightly, letting her fall in to place beside him and pulled the blankets from under them. He wrapped them up around her shoulders as she placed her head back on his chest and placed a light kiss on her head.

 

He laid there for a while, listening to Liz's now steady breathing next to him yet he found he couldn't sleep. It was only now that he could taste the alcohol in the back of his throat and his head felt far heavier that he realised if Liz had still been awake, she would probably have felt the same way. There was no way of knowing whether or not she would regret it when she woke, and the thought worried him.

 

“Maybe this wasn't the greatest idea...” he whispered.

 

Ressler wrapped his arms round Liz a little tighter and sighed, finally closing his eyes and hoping sleep would come soon. He was so wrapped up in his owns thoughts he didn't notice Liz shift her head ever so slightly away from him, nor the tear that silently fell down her cheek.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even... I don't even know what happened...


	3. Chapter 3

It took every ounce of effort Liz had not to fall asleep as she laid there in the aftermath of, not only what they had just done, but Resslers voiced regret. Every inch of her mind and body screamed sleep yet she knew she couldn't afford to, not now. She waited long enough for his breaths to even out to be sure Ressler had succumbed to unconsciousness before inching herself away from him, leaving the warmth of his side and the bed and letting the cool nights breeze coming from the cracked window bite at her naked skin. She spotted their discarded clothes at the foot of the bed, the empty whiskey bottle laying off to the side, the only part full bottle of wine next to it and felt bitterly ashamed with herself. She should have never have allowed herself to let her guard down as much as she did, as the result of her doing so was painfully obvious as she glanced to the bed.

 

Liz racked her muffled brain as she hunted round for something comfortable to wear, taking her find and tiptoeing to the bathroom to change. He had been the one to make the first move, hadn't he? _He'd_ been the one to lean in to kiss her (though she realised now that it probably would've been better if they hadn't in the end), but it didn't stop her feeling utterly disappointed when he'd pulled away and left. It seemed so right for her at the time to go after him, to pull open the door and call him back. Liz had honestly felt the world falling in to place when she'd found him standing there ready to knock. She had loved every second of being with him; it made her feel alive and wanted, but now she just felt empty and alone. Liz sat on the closed toilet and placed her spinning heads in her hands, willing the fuzziness she was feeling to go away. She knew that, without the alcohol flowing through her veins, what had happened tonight never would have, and she honestly didn't know how to feel about it at this point in time.

 

Bile began to rise at the back of her throat and she fought to swallow it back down – not wanting to risk waking Ressler. Liz stood and stared at her reflection in the mirror; pale skin and bloodshot eyes was all that she could see. After rinsing the taste of alcohol and bile from her mouth and splashing her face with water, Liz gathered her sparse belongings from around the bathroom and silently made her way back in to the main room. Ressler, she noted, was still none the wiser to her absence from his side, something which she was immensely grateful for. Reddington had told her simply to pack only what she wished to take to Nebraska with her and that he'd have Mr Kaplan sort the rest. She set about repacking the remainder of her bag (the contents of which had been up-ended on the floor when it had been unceremoniously pushed from the bed) as quietly as she could, all the while resisting the urge to stare at the man sleeping peacefully in her bed.

 

It was nearing five in the morning by the time Liz had finished packing and made herself, at the very least, presentable to greet Dembe when he came knocking. She had no intention of waking her partner before she left – not wanting to endure the awkward conversation that was bound to happen. Finding herself unable to focus being in the room much longer, Liz shot Dembe a text letting him know she was ready to leave sooner than they'd planned. He replied not a minute later to say he was two minutes away. Liz started moving her bags closer to the door, the intention being not to let Dembe see further in to the room than he had to. She heard a car pull up outside and shot to the window, gun in hand, and peered through the curtains in time to see Dembe stepping out of the car. She noted that he was looking at all the parked cars, giving them the once over as he walked, stopping momentarily as he passed the familiar car of her partner. Liz groaned and moved to the door, unlocking and wrenching it open enough to shove her suitcase and few bags out.

 

“Hey, Dembe,” she said before he had a chance to reach her. “I just need to grab my phone, can you give me a minute?”

 

He seemed to regard her briefly, his eyes burning right through hers in to the room behind her... almost like he knew exactly what she was trying to hide. “Of course,” he said, giving her the slightest of smiles. “I'll take these to the car.”

 

He retreated back to the car with her things while Liz headed back inside. She didn't need to get her phone, having already slipped it in her pocket. No, what she had to do, what she felt obliged to do, was leave Ressler a note. Liz grabbed a fresh bottle of water from the mini fridge, the aspirin on the side and placed them on the night stand. She ripped a piece of paper from a notebook, scribbled a short note and propped it up against the water. She took a final look at Ressler, taking in the relaxed features of his face and felt her stomach turn before shooting out and joining Dembe in the car.

 

“Done,” she said, as she fastened her seatbelt. “Let's go.”

 

“Is everything okay, Elizabeth?” Dembe attempted to catch her eye through the mirror, but she wouldn't let him, knowing he'd see right through her... if he hadn't already.

 

“Too much to drink last night,” she murmured, rubbing her forehead. “Far too much to drink.”

 

She could see Dembe regarding her again and shrunk down in her seat and closed her eyes; she didn't need to be judged by him – she was doing enough of that herself.

 

Dembe reached over and ruffled through his bag on the passenger seat, pulling out a bottle of chilled water and passed it back to her. She accepted and took a small sip, nodding her thanks but Dembe encouraged her to keep going. “You must keep hydrated; Raymond with have breakfast on the flight.”

 

Liz grimaced, her stomach turning again at the thought of food. “Don't think I can stomach anything yet.”

 

“You will.”

 

Liz rolled her eyes and caught the smallest of smiles on Dembe's face through the mirror. They lapsed in to quiet and spend the rest of the drive in silence. It didn't bother Liz much in one sense, because Dembe was silent most of the time, but what did bother her was now she had too much time to think. No matter how much she tried to forget; she could still feel Resslers touch on her skin, his lips against her neck, his fingers where they shouldn't have been... the feeling of his body pressed against hers. She shuddered then, catching Dembes attention but she ignored him. Mistake or not, the whole act had left her body aching, something she hadn't experience before... not even with Tom and every time they had been together. She tried to rid herself of the thoughts and feeling as Dembe pulled them in to a private airstrip. Reddingtons jet was the only plane in sight, and was already positioned on the runway, ready to take off at any given moment. Dembe pulled the car to a stop a few feet from the waiting jet. Another one of Reddingtons henchmen was waiting off to the side, presumably to take possession of the car once the two of them had vacated. By the time she'd braced herself and pulled herself from the car, Dembe had already unloaded the trunk and passed the contents to someone else.

 

Dembe lead her up the fitted steps to the plush passenger cabin that was _so_ Reddington that the jet couldn't belong to anyone else. The man himself was seated in one of a collection of four seats fixed around a table reading a newspaper. He looked up and set the paper down, jumped up and held his arms wide.

 

“Lizzie!” he all but shouted, as if he hadn't seen her in months instead of two days, pulling her in to a brief embrace then holding her at arms length but the upper arms. His elation at seeing her quickly disappeared and his face fell when he took a good look at her. “Sweetheart, you look dreadful. What on Earth were you up to last night.”

 

“Had a few drinks,” she responded in a mumble, taking the seat offered to her and throwing herself in to it and leaning back as far as it would allow without having to use the controls. Reddington narrowed his eyes slightly, scrutinising her and at that moment Liz wanted nothing more than to sink in to a hole, because she was almost certain he knew what she was so desperately trying to hide.

 

“Looks like you had more than a few,” Reddington said and returned to his own seat. Liz held her breath, maybe – just maybe – he'd leave it as that. “Dembe, have Natalia bring through coffee before we take off... and bagels.”

 

Liz stomach turned again and a wave of nausea washed over her. She closed her eyes and shook her head, missing the look Reddington shared with his right hand man. “I don't feel like eating.”

 

“But you must,” Reddington said in a tone that very clearly ended the conversation. Liz rolled her eyes as a young, perky, European woman with deep red dyed hair fixed it to unnatural waves set down a tray on the table between them mounted in bagels and fillings, a steaming coffee pot and two mugs. She groaned at the sight while Reddington grinned brightly at the hostess.

 

“Thank you, my dear. I absolutely love what you've done to your hair.” Natalia flashed the both of them a smile and disappeared again. Reddington began poring them both coffee and passed one to Liz, who made no move to take it. He set the mug down and turned instead to slicing a bagel and adding his choice of filling. “I met her mother one night -”

 

Liz, sensing where he was going, cut his reminiscing short and tried to keep her tone as polite as she could. “I really don't want to know.”

 

Reddington took a bite of his breakfast and set the plate back down, taking his time to chew before wiping his mouth on a napkin. He leaned back and crossed his knees, his eyes baring in to hers. “You played with fire, Lizzie, and it's only a matter of time before you get burned.”

 

' _I already have been_ ', she thought as she tried not to let the man across from her know just how much his statement hit home. She took a reluctant sip of her coffee, letting the harsh, scalding liquid burn her throat in an attempt to buy herself more time. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

 

Reddington raised an eyebrow, not believing her at all. “Really, Lizzie, because my sources tell me that Donald -”

 

Liz raised a hand to stop him, which he obliged to do. “For the record, Don spent the night on the floor.” She could tell by the look on his face that Reddington still didn't believe her, but to hell with it. “Just don't go there, okay? I get that you're concerned, but I am an adult, not your teenage daughter. I don't need or want a lecture. You, and you back there,” she raised her voice enough for Dembe to hear and turned in her seat to glare at him. He neither made a move nor gave an expression under her gaze, which only made her huff in frustration and turn back to Reddington, who was showing slight amusement at her failed attempt to intimidate Dembe. Liz narrowed her eyes at him. “Stay out of my private life. Don't think I don't know that Dembe was your 'source'' he was at too near to the motel too early this morning not to be.”

 

“I see.” Liz didn't know whether it was her tone or her being on the verge of tears that made Reddington back down, but she was grateful nonetheless. “In that case, Dembe, will you call Natalia back and have her take these things away? Then let Marcus know we're ready to take off.” Dembe nodded and walked towards the front of the jet. Reddington swiped a few crumbs from his pants leg and looked back to her. “I've arranged for a car to take your from the airport to Sam's. There's also a rental waiting in the drive for you. Javier will give you the keys and paperwork.”

 

“Thank you.” Liz gave him a sincere smile and sighed in relief, partly because he'd ropped the subject of her and Ressler and partly because hiring a car for the duration of her stay in Nebraska was something she hadn't thought of.

 

Reddington nodded but said no more. Dembe returned with Natalia and as she removed their breakfast, he settled himself in to a chair a few rows from them. No sooner had they been left alone did the pilots voice sound through the cabin.

 

_Ladies and gentlemen, if you would please fasten your seatbelts, we'll be taking off in five minutes time._

 

* * *

 

Ressler woke to a painfully pounding head and a vibrating somewhere on the floor to the left of him. Trying not to jostle the rocks bashing against the inside of his skull, Ressler stretched out on the bed expecting to find the warm body of his partner, but instead his hand ran along the cold and empty sheet beside hi,. Cracking an eye open, Ressler instantly knew he was alone in Liz's motel room. He shot in to a seated, an act he instantly regretted. He pressed his knuckles against his head, willing the spinning sensation to disappear. Since his college years, he'd always been fortunate enough not to experience the sickness that, more times than not, accompanied an hangover, but that didn't mean he wouldn't suffer with an impressive headache for the next few hours. Opening his eyes again, Ressler did a brief scan of the room, wondering if Liz had simply woken early and stepped out, but upon noticing most of her clothes and bags than had been present last night had gone, he knew that wasn't the case. She'd gone.

 

Ressler sat still on the bed, trying to process this new information. Had she really upped and left without saying goodbye after the two of them had had sex? Did she even try to wake him? Ressler couldn't understand it. As far as he knew, she had wanted it as much as him. Yeah, he'd pulled away from her and left, but when he'd turned back she was already there. He threw off the covers and made to climb out of the bed when he spotted the note Liz had written before leaving. He gave a half smile and downed two pills with some water while silently thanking his partner for the thought. He picked up the note, his heart sinking as he read the untidy, familiar scrawl.

 

_Don, take the aspirin. See yo when I get back._

_Don't worry, I regret it to._

_Liz_

 

Shit.

 

Ressler read through two then three more times to be sure he understood. Liz had still been awake when he'd expressed his regret.

 

“Ah hell, Liz.”

 

He hadn't meant it the way she obviously believed. All he meant was that he regretted them being drunk, not them actually sleeping together. In all honesty, his feelings for his partner had been running deeper for months, he just never acted on them... and as far as he was aware, Liz must have had something there for him to. The vibrating started again and Ressler figured it must be his phone. He looked round and spotted his pants crumpled at the foot of the bed and went to retrieve them. His pulled his phone out as it stopped ringing and growled audibly as he looked at the screen - it was almost eleven in the morning and seven missed called from Aram and two from Cooper indicated that he was in deep shit. Like Liz, Ressler caught sight of the whiskey and wine bottles and was flooded with memories of the previous night. He needed to explain to Liz, make her see that it was all misunderstood. He unlocked his phone to make the call when it started ringing in his hand. Aram was calling again, and he answered, somewhat gruffly.

 

“Ressler.”

 

“ _Agent Ressler_ ,” Aram said timidly, as if he could sense the frustration Ressler was feeling. “ _Director Cooper wants to know where you are? He was expecting the Covington reports almost three hours ago.”_

 

Ressler wondered whether Cooper ordered Aram to call or if he offered... he doubted the latter. “Tell him I'll be in this afternoon,” he grunted, trying not to take it out on the younger agent, though he wagered he'd fail miserably. He rubbed his brow. “He can dock me a days pay for all I care.”

 

There was silence between them before Aram whispered, “ _Is everything alright?”_

 

' _No Aram; I fucked my partner last night and now she's left believing it was all a mistake_ ', he thought, but there was no way in hell he was saying that out loud. Ressler threw himself back down on the bed. “Fine. I'll see you later.”

 

Ressler ended the call before Aram had a chance to respond. He didn't need this, not now. He needed to speak to Liz, but he knew he didn't have a hope in hell of doing so in person. He brought her number up on his speed dial and pressed 'call', waiting, somewhat impatiently, for her to answer. “Come on, Liz.”

 

“ _This is Elizabeth Keen. I can't come to the phone right now but if you leave a message, I'll get back to you as soon as I can.”_

 

As if he would be so lucky. Of course she wouldn't answer. Ressler gritted his teeth, but refrained from growling down the phone to her voicemail. “We need to talk about this, Liz. You need to give me a chance to explain. Just... call me, please.”

 

Ressler tossed the phone on the bed next to him, placed his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Last night had ended so well, until another stupid comment of his ruined it. His head pounding a little less than it had been, Ressler pushed himself up and dressed in yesterdays clothes. All he could do now was wait for her to call him back, and if she didn't he'd just have to keep trying.

 

He gathered his things and left, jumping in his car and heading back to his apartment to shower and finish his reports before facing Cooper and his wrath that afternoon, Liz still on his mind the entire time.

 

* * *

 

True to his word, Reddington had indeed arranged for a car to pick her up when they landed. While they'd said theirs goodbyes on the jet, she bid Dembe farewell when he loaded her bags in to the car. The drive from the airport to Sam's wasn't particularly long - only just over and hour - but the journey itself Liz found uncomfortable. Whether it was because the man driving her was one of Reddington's, or because the last time she was at her dads was for the wake after his funeral. She'd made a deal with herself, after her conversation with Reddington, not to think about Ressler, and so far she was sticking to it... but there was an aching feeling in her chest that she didn't like to place.

 

When they finally pulled up to the house, Liz felt tears brim her eyes. She'd loved the house growing up; it had been her safe haven. It wasn't the biggest in the neighbourhood, but it wasn't the smallest either, and with all the happy memories that lined the walls, it was one of the best a child could dream of. Her driver, Javier, placed her bags down in front of her when she stepped out the car.

 

“Thank you, Javier.”

 

“Not a problem, Ms Keen,” he said with a smile, until Liz tried to hand him a few notes. He shook his head, politely pushing her hand away. “No, I cannot accept this. Mr Mathers has already paid me a fair amount to ensure you arrive safely.”

 

Liz smiled kindly at him. “But I am not Mr Mathers.” She was tired, and arguing over a tip was not something she wanted to do. She leaned forward and slipped the money in to the breast pocket of his shirt, leaving no room for further discussion. “Take it.”

 

He looked between her and his pocket, debating, before sighing in defeat. “This is most generous of you, thank you.” He reached in to the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a few sheets of folded paper and a set of car keys. It was only then that Liz noticed the Mercedes parked in the driveway. “The keys to the car and all relevant paperwork. Mr Mathers has arranged for the car to be picked up separately the day you leave.”

 

“Of course he has.” Liz slipped the items she'd been handed in to her bag and resisted rolling her eyes – she did actually appreciate Reddington doing this for her. “Thank you.”

 

“Enjoy your days, Ms Keen.”

 

Javier nodded to her, then left her standing in front of the house alone. The front yard was unkempt, more so then Sam would have liked. She'd initially set up a payment to a teenager on the street to do the gardening a couple of times a month, but he'd since gone off to college and Liz hadn't bothered to make other arrangements. Opening the front door, she was hit in the face by the stench of stale air and dust. Sam may have kept the place cluttered with his various collections, but he was still house proud... and he'd turn in his grave if he could see the state of the place now. Liz dragged her suitcase and other bags through the door and slammed it shut, sending up a wave of dust from the floor. Unmoving from the door, Liz stared at the contents of both kitchen and living room. Seeing Sam's things brought tears to her eyes again. Knowing the other rooms could be equally as cluttered as these two, Liz knew she wouldn't be able to tackle the house alone, that she would need the help of the only person she could think of that wasn't involved with her everyday life.

 

Liz pulled her phone from her pocket, lighting up the screen and freezing. She'd put her phone on silent when she'd left the motel that morning, and as a result, was now only finding the two missed calls and a voicemail from Ressler. Her stomach turned as she ignored the notifications and a voice in her telling her to call him back. Scrolling through her contacts, she found the one she wanted and pressed call, pressing the phone to her ear ans taking a seat on the arm of the old couch. She only had to wait a few seconds before the line clicked open, and the familiar voice of her dads sister came through.

 

“ _Hello?_ ”

 

Liz smiled. “Hey, Aunt June, it's -”

 

“ _Oh, Elizabeth,_ ” her Aunt exclaimed, clearly pleased she was calling. “ _Darling, it's so good to hear from you. It's been far too long. How have you been keeping?_ ”

 

“I've been...” It was now, as Liz pondered the question, that she realised it had been months since she'd last spoken to her Aunt, and in that time everything with Tom had come to a head. Liz sighed. “Better, Works been crazy. How about you and the guys?”

 

“ _Oh, Darling,_ ” Aunt June breathed out dramatically. “ _I've just been_ swamped _these last few months, you know? All these charity events and functions, and Phils had surgery on his knee -_ ”

 

Liz's eyes widened. “He did?”

 

“ _Yes!_ ” Aunt June almost shouted. “ _He fell off that damned skateboard Sam bought him for his birthday all those years ago. You'd think a nineteen year old would know better than to try and ride straight over a rock._ ”

 

“Was he drunk?” Aunt June made a noise that signalled Liz had hit the nail on the head and she laughed. Liz remembered helping Sam choose the skateboards design for a then turning fourteen year old Phil. It was amazing that he still even had it. “Well, give him my best, James to.”

 

Aunt June laughed now to. “ _I will do. Elizabeth,_ ” she asked slowly, and Liz knew which direction the conversation was heading in now, and she didn't like it. “ _How's things with Tom? Have you decided yet whether you want to give adoption another go?_ ”

 

Liz sighed. “No. We, um, we split up actually.” She felt guilty for lying... but what else was she supposed to do?

 

“ _Oh,_ ” said Aunt June, the news obviously coming as a surprise to her. “ _Darling, I'm so sorry. Is there any chance of rekindling what the two of you once had?_ ”

 

Liz heard the hopeful tone her Aunt used, having always like Tom, and gritted her teeth. There was so much more to it that she would never be able to explain, a simple yes or no answer would have to do. “No. Divorce has already been finalised.”

 

“ _Divorced, already? That's... quick._ ”

 

Liz grimaced; she wasn't strictly lying though, was she? She'd been granted an annulment with the help of Reddington after she'd killed Tom, but of course, Aunt June couldn't know that. She gave the next best answer, hoping it would be enough to stem her Aunts curiosity. “He lied about a few things.” That was an understatement. “Court favoured me. Plus... no kids; nothing important to negotiate.

 

“ _Oh_.” Liz could sense her Aunt wanted to say more but refrained from doing so. “ _So, what_ _are you doing now then_?”

 

“Actually, I'm at Dads,” Liz said brightly, pleased a bullet had been dodged and they were finally on her reason for calling. “I've taken some time off, you know, to finally sort through the place. I'm here for the next six weeks before I go back, so if you want to come and help?”

 

“ _That'll be lovely,_ ” Aunt June said enthusiastically, just like Liz knew she would. “ _I can't this week, but maybe next?”_

 

“Prefect. Just let me know.” Liz looked round the living room, standing and walking over to a row of photo frames that lined one of the walls. “I should go get started.”

 

“ _Okay. Bye, Elizabeth, take care_.”

 

“You to. Bye.”

 

Liz ended the call and slipped her phone back in her pocket, still staring at the photos. Each one related to a different memory, to a time when she was truly happy. A time where she was blissfully unaware of the dangers of the outside world, the bad guys only existed on TV. Tears ran down her cheeks as Liz plucked one of the frames from it's place on the wall, running a finger over the image of Sam, wishing, more than ever, that he was standing beside her once again.

 

“I miss you, Daddy.”

 


End file.
